


Humanformers: Combaticon

by andrean182



Series: Not Exactly for Combat [7]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Humanformers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:38:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrean182/pseuds/andrean182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Combaticons are turned into humans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know about this…I mean… oh come on, I’m just having some weird idea about the Combaticons turned into human.
> 
> THIS IS TO BE DRABBLE… or some drabbles… brain, don’t unintentionally summon the plot bunny please
> 
> Oh and please, forgive me for the fluffiness, because I practically unable to write anything without doses of fluff :3 I know that the Combaticons aren’t fluffy material, but let's just see...

This is stupid, Blast Off thought.

Vortex should be able to dodge the shots the Autobots were shooting him with, and punch that stupid brown bot. Instead, his gestalt mate was shot and laying on the ground before him, nearly unconscious. He had to drag him here from the open road beside the beach. And now, Blast Off resisted the urge to punch that stupid smirk off his face, it just refused to leave.

“Hehe, you're hot!”

“Shut up!” he shot a blue Autobot with doorwings. They were supposed to take over this matter converter machine the Autobots had built, not destroy it. It could convert anything into anything, maybe. The rock that he was hiding behind wouldn't protect him forever, and he loathed to feel weak and incapable, hated it.

Vortex giggled; with his damaged vocaliser, he was only able to make some clicking and static sounds.

“Combaticons, fall back!” Onslaught's roared at the battlefield.

How could he fall back with his damaged leg and carrying Vortex with his bent and crunched rotors and his chest torn open?

Ugh!

He flung Vortex over his shoulder and ran, not caring about the Autobots or his limping. He heard someone yelling ‘Don't go any closer to the machine’ or whatever, he didn't quite catch it. All that mattered to him now was only to secure Vortex and patch his gaping chest.

Brawl waved at them from a room inside the machine, telling them to come there. He dashed through the rain of lasers, trying to get themselves to the only sanctuary in his vision. He saw Onslaught also running there, and Swindle.

A little bit more...

He made it to the room, but the last voice he heard was a hum of a machine before his vision went black.

-

There was no pain when he woke up.

Blast Off let his processors settle for a few moments, taking in his surroundings. He must’ve fallen into a mud; his frame made contact with weird sand.

But there was no water.

He got up and opened his optiques, hands planting on the both sides of the surface of… sand? Asphalt? Why were his hands crème-brown?

He ignored it for a few moments, waiting for self-diagnostic to pop up in his HUD.

It never came.

Looking up in confusion, he guessed that the majority of his systems maybe had gone offline from the fall before. But it just added his confusion up. He saw two humans laying on the ground just a few metres in front of him, and one standing farther from him.

Nothing of this made sense.

And the weirdest thing was, a human laid face down in front of him.

He tensed as he sat down on the ground, looking at his hands. He did it without any of the sounds he knew—soft clanks of metals and components, of some plates moving around transformation seams, of his cooling fans. Now, they were fleshy, weird, unlike the harsh metal his hands were. There was no heat shield and small ceramic tiles in his wrists. The inner part had lighter colour tone than the back. He looked down to his frame. Sand still clung onto it as the chest rose and fell with his breathing. He couldn’t see any metal of plates anywhere. He had become human? Of the list of the worst experiences he had encountered, this would surely be on top.

He closed his optiques, hoping that it was just a weird glitch of his processors or some side effect of the impact, or at least a hologram.

But when he opened his optiques again, it didn’t disappear. He stayed the same.

He poked his chest, hoping that the flesh would disappear and the metal would appear. It didn’t.

A shadow fell over his frame. “Blast Off?”

He tensed, then looked up to see the human reddish eyes after hearing Onslaught’s voice, albeit slightly smoother and static-free, hoping to see Onslaught in front of him with some kind of explanation, no matter how weird it would be. But instead he was another human, the one that was farthest from him. The human was big and quite imposing by his tanned skin and muscular build, with a dark brownish hair and… did human body not have outside plating to cover their equipment?

But the most disturbing fact was that the human was _big_. Big enough to make him feel intimidated.

Said human knelt down in front of him, patting his shoulder with a hand that was, unnervingly, _big enough to grasp his entire shoulder_. He tensed more.

What in the grand name of Primus?

“Are you Blast Off?”

“Yes I… Onslaught?” his voice came out a lot more static-free than he first expected. Maybe it was because he wore no masque? Masque! He lifted his hands to touch his face, trembling slightly. And he was surprised. The masque was gone, replaced by disgustingly soft human skin to his mouth. His visor was also gone, making him feel, for the lack of better word, naked. But maybe he was _really_ naked.

“It’s me.” His commander spoke, his voice making him a bit more relaxed. “Judging by your reaction, I might assume that you still haven’t get what has happened to us.”

“What happened…?”

Of Onslaught’s reactions he had already known, he could tell that this was a very serious issue.

“We have been turned into humans.”

Blast Off froze, tensed, horrified after hearing that, his optiques—eyes now—widened. How could _this_ happen? Surely there _should_ be some kind of explanation. He stared at his hands, not knowing what to do. What if they stayed in this form forever? This… this human frame was weak, fleshy, and sometimes looked just like a lump of meat, so very unlike his strong and well-built previous metal frame. He felt like he wanted to purge.

He had seen plenty of humans before, but rarely with their clothes off. And human bodies were repulsively featureless than their Cybertronian frames, save of two weird tiny knobs on the chestplate and a set of bulging ridges leading to some kind of port in his abdominal area. And he hated that he couldn’t cover his… spike, was it? Was it his spike? He couldn’t even cover it without his hands. They needed clothes.

Someone suddenly shouted from afar, and both human-turned Cybertronian turned their heads to the source of the sound. There was another human, it was the one who was laying on the ground quite far from Blast Off. He was a bit smaller than Onslaught, though no less muscular, and was less intimidating. Blast Off could tell from the magazines he had read about human lifestyles, one of a few topics about Earth that caught his interest.

But the loud voice gave no mistaking of him from anyone else.

“Um… guys…? Someone could tell me what happened?”

Stupid tank, he thought.

Onslaught waved him to come and carry the other human beside him. That human must be Swindle, because he was slim and lithe, and the smallest of them all. Then it meant that… the one in front of him was Vortex.

Vortex and Swindle were unconscious when they regrouped, and sun had set. Blast Off, who had been very shocked by all of this, didn’t move a centimetre from where he sat whilst Onslaught towering over them, somehow made him feel queasy. He didn’t even _dare_ to look up… mostly because human body didn’t cover their equipment in default.

“So, uh, what do we do now?” Brawl asked, his skin was darker than Onslaught.

“Honestly I don’t know what should we do for this… situation.” For once, Onslaught seemed unsure, but he did a great job in hiding his queasiness and uncertainty. The inexistence of the gun barrels on his back was weird and disturbing and very unwelcomed, and so with Brawl’s muzzle, Swindle’s windshield and cannon, and Vortex’s rotors, much less his own cannon and heat shields. He stared at his hands, unable to say anything more. This was… _disgusting, disturbing_.

“Let’s just find a place to take refuge from current situation.” The commander continued, his tone uneasy.

They walked, the stars above them shone brightly as the ocean expanded far from vision. Night had fallen, the Autobots were gone, no help from Megatron, and the machine was gone. He walked on his now smaller feet, feeling the weird sensation of beach sand on his… absurdly unfinished foot fingers? His feet were smaller than the ones he once had, though he still could wall no less. And his feet were like some deformed form of his hands.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Brawl lifting Swindle in his arms easily. The former jeep was looking peaceful in his inactivity, and a lot less annoying. The former helicopter was flung over Onslaught’s shoulder in front of him, the commander led the way to a cave big enough for them to recover from the sudden change in situation. He felt nauseated by… all of this.

But, okay, think of the positives. At least he could walk now, there was no damage in his leg. And Vortex’s chest hadn’t a gaping hole in it. Their human bodies were at least undamaged.

However, there was an endless list of the negatives.

And this… fluid that ran on his back plating—skin—was annoying. Human version of cooling fans was weird.

They reached the cave and sat down. He made fire from tree branches from outside the cave. Fortunately, he thought, he went to quite a few organic planets before and taught himself how to make fire. Onslaught put Vortex against the wall and sat down beside him, head leaning back and chest heaving up and down as he breathed for air heavily, and also dripping that fluid that Blast Off had. Who knew that Vortex was heavier in human form? Brawl did so and slapped Swindle, telling him to come online. And online he did, his fortunately purple eyes opened and looked at them, then he screamed.

“WHAT THE FRAG?!”

Blast Off took their appearances; they weren’t much different in terms of colour of their previous form. Swindle had blonde hair, and so with Brawl and Onslaught having brownish hair, although Onslaught’s is darker. Vortex’s hair was dark grey. Aside from their eye and hair colours, there were no remnants from their previous form, but at least it made him a bit more familiar.

He saw Onslaught giving Swindle that look of ‘shut the frag up and don’t ask, I’ll explain later’, and the man silenced, waiting for explanation.

Onslaught shook Vortex’s body, making him come online and his tired, painful eyes met with Onslaught’s. It looked like the pain hadn’t gone away from his body, and it was multiplied tenfold. There was no annoying grin in his face, only real tiredness and exhaustion. Vortex was… not Vortex.

“Can I… see a medic?” the former helicopter asked as he closed his eyes, his voice was unusually tired and worn out. “I’m not feeling well. If you’re making me as your hostage, please at least disable my pain receptors.”

“No one is taking anyone as hostage.” Onslaught replied, his own voice was no less tired. “Vortex, do you hear me?”

“I do. Just resting my optiques.”

Onslaught nodded, then faced them all. “Okay, so as you know. We have turned into humans.”

“WHAT?!”

It was Vortex, screaming on his full voice and so unlike a few moments ago. “WE HAVE WHAT?!”

“Shut up and sit down!” Onslaught warned him. Vortex did as he told, fortunately. “This is a dire situation and I demand an explanation from any of you!”

No one answered.

“I-I thought you can give us some explanation…” Brawl hunched, hugging his legs in a pathetic attempt to calm himself.

Onslaught sighed, his voice was confused and, he hated to say it, defeated. “I don’t have any, nor do I understand what’s going on.” He looked to Blast Off. “Blast Off?”

Blast Off only shook his head, also not understanding what was going on.

Onslaught sighed and leant his head to the wall.

“We’re doomed.” Swindle spoke.

“Can’t we use the machine to turn us back?”

“Brawl, no.” Onslaught said.

“I mean, if it can turn us into humans, it can also dis-turn us from humans, right?”

“I hope so, but there are no remnants of it.”

“Where are we anyway? We’re still in the same place we fought the Autobots, right?” Swindle asked.

“I don’t know.” Brawl answered. “Maybe we have flown or warped or moved or I don’t know. But at least there’s no one to step on us. We’re small now.”

Vortex leant back to the wall beside Onslaught. “Just how worse could this day be?”

Blast Off was thankful for the bright moonlight above them, it made the place a lot brighter so that he could watch the beach for any sign of danger, although it was night.

“How long have we been out anyway?”

“Dunno, we don’t have internal clock anymore.”

“Let’s just rest then.” Onslaught spoke. “We can discuss this later.”

“Later?! Why not now?!” Swindle demanded.

“Because I felt like my chest has been torn apart, dammit!” Vortex snapped. “I’m tired.”

Swindle went quiet.

-

Blast Off couldn’t sleep.

He kept staring at the moon near the entrance of the cave. Onslaught was asleep by his side, head resting on his shoulder. It was fine; he embraced his commander, more to calm and comfort himself than the other. Vortex was next to Onslaught, sitting asleep. Brawl kept his hands to himself as Swindle made his thigh as pillow in front of him. At least he wasn’t alone in this. Onslaught would find a plan, and they would go back to their HQ or the Nemesis. He was sure Megatron would throw fists at them for failing the mission, but he would be glad to just rest in his quarter later.

For now, they could only blend in with the humans.

They had no comm equipment; they had no means of contacting the base, not that Megatron would respond anyway. He liked them to suffer, and they would like to have his head decorating the common room of their HQ.

Wait, he could think of Megatron like that?

Well, that was a good sign. At least the loyalty programme was deactivated.

They had to contact the base. But how? They could use some human computer, and he’d try to, but where could they get one? And if they knew, they had to buy it, not borrow it. But it was a slim chance for them. Human computers didn’t work with their frequency.

They also needed clothes, food, and some habitation to live for the time being. They couldn’t stay in this cave until someone came. This was just like living in the time before the war, when they get to work and live. Only they had to do it in this… organic form in an alien planet. And they didn’t know how long they had been like this, or how long they had to endure this.

“We’ll come back, Blast Off.” Onslaught spoke beside him.

Blast Off turned his head. Onslaught was awake in his shoulder, his eyes sleepy.

“Can I stay like this for a little bit longer?”

He just nodded.

“You’ve been quiet, Blast Off. What are you thinking about?”

“I…” Blast Off looked away. “Honestly, I don't know what to say.”

“Do you have anything that may aide us?”

“We need clothes, and food.” Blast Off replied. “Humans don't walk around naked like this. And we need someplace to live temporarily.”

“We’ll manage that.” Onslaught assured him. “So we have to go to the nearest human settlement. How far is that?”

“I don’t know. Could be a few decametres away. And we’ll need computer to contact the Nemesis. I don’t know whether it’ll work or not, but I’ll try.”

“Hmm.” Onslaught pondered. “Do you know how long we’ve been sleeping?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a few breems. The moon is higher now than the time you began sleeping.”

“I think we can start now.” He sat upright.

“Start what?” Blast Off turned to Onslaught.

“Start to settle ourselves for the time being. We need to get to the nearest human settlement, remember? This is just like living in before the war.” Onslaught smiled weakly. “But we have to start from the bottom up.”

Blast Off nodded.

“At least your optique colour is purple.” Onslaught told him.

Blast Off tried to smile. “And yours is reddish.”

They both exchanged smiles before Onslaught turned to wake up the others, but not before he met Vortex's face, grinning, but still not the usual slag-eating grin of his.

“Okay, stop being love bats you two.”

“Vortex.” Onslaught spoke sternly. “Wake them up.” He pointed to Brawl and Swindle.

“I thought you’re going to wake them up.”

“No. You wake them up.”

Groaned to himself, Vortex kicked Swindle’s foot, making the man woke up. Swindle opened his eyes and looked at everyone, then shuffled, his back facing the commander. “I thought this is a dream. This isn’t.”

“My fist won’t be a dream if you don’t wake up.” Onslaught warned him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve woken up.” He dismissed Onslaught by his hand. “Brawl, wake up.”

The former tank jolted awake when Swindle slapped his face. Then he rubbed his face in pain after he smacked Swindle’s head. “Ow! It hurts!”

The former jeep sat up and slapped Brawl again.

“Stop it, Swindle.” Vortex spoke.

Blast Off noticed a small change in Vortex’s tone as he spoke. It was… unfamiliar to him. “Vortex, is your chest okay now?”

Vortex looked at him, then at his chest. He gripped his chest as if trying to make some pain. “Yes. It’s a lot better now.”

Definitely something was wrong about Vortex.

“Now that you’re all awake,” Onslaught began. “We need to move in order to at least go back to the Nemesis.”

“Move?” Brawl asked. “How?”

“We need to get into human settlement. We need clothes, food, and money.” The former truck explained. “We’ll need to contact the base, in meanwhile we have to blend in with the humans.”

“Blend in with them? I don’t know. It’s just… ugh.” protested Swindle.

“We don’t have any other choices, Swindle. For now, we’ll have to get ourselves clothes and food.”

“Where do you think we can get ‘em?” Brawl asked.

Vortex chimed in. “Think we can rob someone on the road?”

Everyone looked at him. Onslaught nodded. “I think that would do. First, we locate the nearest roadway, then someone to rob off (I hate to do it). Any question?”

“Oh, me!” Brawl spoke. “Well, will we get our old frames back?”

“I don’t know.” replied the former truck. “At least we should try to contact the base for help.”

“Oh…” he looked down, looking defeated.

“So, if there’s no more question, let’s move out.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brawl fell, Onslaught has a plan, Vortex and Brawl taste bread for the first time, and Vortex prepares breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks around* so far it still hasn’t come yet *yells*

The nearest roadway turned to just behind the cave they were in. They just needed to come out, climb up a bit, and there was the roadway. But there were no cars in sight.

Brawl didn’t like this new human body. It was weak and sensitive. It lacked size and weaponry and everything he liked about his old frame. And it was very cold! He had had inner temperature control so that he’d be at least warm enough to operate, but now he felt it was very cold into his protoform! And this human form was _weak._ Well, he was still as strong as before, but when he slipped down and fell, the impact made him cringe and groan. It was just a single fall! Fortunately, Onslaught helped him to get up and manhandled him until they arrived at the road.

Now they had to wait for at least one car to show up.

He missed his old frame.

His pain from the fall didn’t just fade out like it should, instead it seemed to be multiplied twofold each time he took a step, making him walking was a hard thing to do. And there was a rumbling sound where his old fuel tank had been. He just imagined it as his old engine rumbling, although it was no means the same. In his old frame, when his fuel tank rumbled, it meant it was nearly empty, but who knew what did it mean in human body? He willed a damage report to appear in his HUD, but it never did, remembering that he no longer had a self-diagnostic or self-repair system. Maybe his tank was really nearly empty. Hungry.

“Vortex,” Onslaught called. “search the area to the left. Swindle, to the right.”

Swindle protested. “Why should I? Tell Brawl to do it!”

“Come on, Swindle.” Vortex, for once, obedient without question.

“Swindle. Go.” Onslaught glared at him, his eyes narrowed. He couldn’t brighten his eyes anymore, Brawl thought, he would miss the gleam of anger in those optiques.

They both went, leaving Onslaught and Blast Off to tend to Brawl. Blast Off looked to his surroundings, whilst Brawl sat on a rock, groaning.

“I don’t know if I can continue, guys.” Brawl bemoaned.

“It was just a single fall, Brawl.”

“Yeah, but it hurts a lot, boss. It should’ve faded out, but it didn’t.”

“You’re fine, I see.” Onslaught sat beside him.

Brawl looked down. “The light inside is broken.”

Onslaught gave him a pat on his back.

“Onslaught!” Vortex ran over them. “I found a van not too far away from here. It’s not moving.”

Onslaught looked at Blast Off, who responded. “Is someone in there?”

“I don’t know. Its lamps aren’t turned on.”

“Maybe just an abandoned van. At least we could rest there for a few days.”

Onslaught nodded to Vortex. “Vortex, look for Swindle and return here.”

“Okay.” And Vortex ran again. Blast Off watched his back, wondering what wasn’t right about their former copter.

“Blast Off,” Brawl spoke, his tone soft. “how can you know so much about human?”

“I read a lot about them in my spare time.” He replied.

“And here I am thankful of you having read them.” Onslaught said.

Blast Off just nodded.

Vortex and Swindle returned after that. Onslaught told them to move to the van Vortex had found. When they arrived there, they were quite surprised by the van. It was still good, no sign of damage on the outside, but no one seemed to own it. Onslaught went inside to check, and the previous owner’s things were still there. Lamps were still able to turn on, the kitchen still had some supplies, and the beds, although small, were useable. There was even a TV in the bed area for them to watch. There was also a pile of spare clothes on the other end.

“It’s clear.”

They entered the van and looked around. The first thing Brawl did was getting on the bed and continued his sleep, enjoying the warmth of the bed.

Vortex nudged his foot. “Wake up, you.”

“Go away. I’m sleepy.” he replied, muffled by the pillow.

“Vortex, leave him.” Onslaught said. “Put on your clothes.”

Vortex sighed. Onslaught went to pick up some clothes to use. Vortex saw Swindle putting some clothes on, thanks to Blast Off, they knew what to use and what not. He joined them and picked two pairs of clothes and boxers, one for him and one for Brawl. He snickered a bit when Onslaught and Blast Off had difficulties in looking for clothes that fit their size.

He went to the bed, but he saw a note on the fridge. He picked it up and raised his ridge.

“Huh?” Why did he leave this van? “Onslaught, I thought the owner of this van is dead.”

“How can you think so?” the commander replied from the other end of the van.

“Look at this note. ‘I’m leaving and I won’t come back. I hope you’re happy.’ Means something to you?”

“Stupid human.” Swindle poked.

“I think they were having a relationship.”

“How do you know?”

Vortex shrugged, putting his white boxer on. “Blast Off made me watch human soap operas.”

“ _You_ made me watch them.” Blast Off denied, finishing with his clothes.

“Nah, he’s just joking.” Vortex put his bare grey T-shirt on, putting the note back.

He heard Blast Off sighed behind him, but he ignored it. Instead he walked to Brawl. “Brawl?”

“Hmph?” came a muffled reply. “I can’t sleep.”

“Here, use your clothes. I picked them for you.”

“Not wanna use ‘em.”

“Come on.” He tugged Brawl’s back, where his muzzle had been. “Let’s just go outside.”

Brawl put his green T-shirt and his black boxer on. “I thought you’d want this? It’s too small for me.” He looked at his body. There was a little image of helicopter on his chest, but the T-shirt was small that his chest muscles were imprinted on it.

“Nah, I like grey better.” replied Vortex, getting outside the van.

When he passed the stash area, Brawl found two delicious-looking things on the stash, then picked them up with him.

Nothing had changed since they went inside. Outside was a lot warmer, thanks to the clothes they used. Brawl sat on a rock just in front of the van, with Vortex beside him. He handed Vortex one of the delicious-looking things he picked up before.

“What’s this?”

Brawl shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe something we can eat.”

He opened its packaging and sniffed it. _Smells good._ He licked it, tasting its smooth surface, and took a bite. _This is good, and this brown weird liquid is like the best ever!_

“How does it taste?”

“Good!” Brawl took a bite again. “This thing is like the best! You should try some!”

Curious, Vortex opened its packaging and took a bite, then moaned to himself when he tasted it. _So fragging good! Maybe it’s quite disgusting in the outside, but so fragging good!_

Brawl laughed when he heard Vortex moan.

-

Swindle fell asleep after. Onslaught, knowing that at least they had some kind of habitation, allowed him to rest. He wasn’t the only one who stressed out. This situation took a toll on all of them. Which Cybertronian wouldn’t be horrified knowing that they were turned into human? And left alone on the road on their own? But he’d have a plan, he’d plan their way out, because no way he’d let this team break apart just by a… rather serious situation.

He had led his team through numerous situations before. He would also lead them out of this.

“So, what now?” Blast Off asked him, joining him to sit on one of the beds, across the one Swindle occupied.

“Pardon?” he replied, shifting a bit to make room for the former shuttle.                  

“What will we do now? I hate to say it, but we still have to contact Megatron for help. Or at least someone who would want to help us.”

“Who do you think?” Onslaught replied, feeling a processor ache coming—no, it was headache. He hated to know that their only mean of getting out of this was only Megatron. The Autobots wouldn’t even want to help them. They also couldn’t stay being human forever. “I don’t think Megatron would help us in any way.”

“But at least we should try. If not Megatron, then Shockwave would.”

“Shockwave was in Cybertron, remember?” Onslaught draped his hand over his face. “But you’re right, we should try anyway. Where can we get a computer?”

“In one of the commercial centres, I think. But we’ll have to buy it.”

“Buy it, hm? Did you found any money here?”

Blast Off nodded. “I just found 320 in total. I don’t think that’ll be enough.”

“How can we get more money? Without robbing anyone of course, I don’t like it.”

“We can get a job.” The former shuttle replied, rubbing at his hand, feeling the weird sensation of organic flesh. “I think it’s the only way we can get money without robbing someone.”

“So then, we’ll have to move to a more populated area.”

“Oh and one more thing.” Blast Off laid beside him, shuffling to be comfortable. “I think something is wrong with Vortex.”

“Vortex? How so?”

“Just look at his behaviour.” He replied, looking at the windows beside him. It showed the back of Vortex and Brawl outside, laughing to themselves. “Something is amiss with him.”

Onslaught followed his gaze to the window. “I don’t see anything quite wrong with him. However, I’ll keep that in mind.”

In their peripheral vision, he saw Vortex and Brawl stood up, then walked inside.

Blast Off tried to comm Onslaught, but then he realised that this human form didn’t have a commlink. Primitive. “Watch this.” He whispered instead, when they saw Vortex and Brawl entered the bedroom area.

“Vortex,” Blast Off said to Vortex. “Would you sleep next to me?”

Vortex looked at him, then smiled apologetically. “Nah. Thanks but I promised Brawl to rub his back. Maybe next time.” Then he followed Brawl climbing the bed up beside Swindle.

“Well?” The former shuttle whispered again.

Onslaught cringed, but shrugged it off this time. Instead, he asked, “Did you close the door?”

“All secured.” replied Brawl, loud and clear.

Vortex sat behind Brawl, beginning to rub his back. “So, what do we do now?”

“We rest. We’ll try to get into more populated area tomorrow. We’ll have to get ourselves a computer.”

Brawl added. “We’re gonna take one?”

“No, Brawl. We’ll buy one. We have to get a job to get one.”

“A job?”

“Yes.” Onslaught replied. “Now, rest.”

“You can get food in the fridge if you’re hungry.” Blast Off added.

“Ooh, can I open this shirt? It’s too small for me.”

Onslaught nodded. “Just make sure you use one when you’re going outside.”

Brawl giggled and opened his T-shirt, making Vortex paused his rubbing. He then continued, “I still don’t get it, why do humans have such a big and bulbous chest… uh… muscle? And what are these small kibbles?” he rubbed one in his chest, then shuddered. “Ooh I think it’s a hotspot!” he spoke happily.

Onslaught sighed and Blast Off shifted to lay on his front, annoyed.

“Brawl, no.”

“Ooh, and my spike is exposed now.” the former tank grinned. “So I can just–”

Vortex shoved him forward, giggling. “Frag off, Brawl.”

“Hey, don't worry.” Brawl said, not catching Onslaught’s death glare. “Your valve is the first thing I'm gonna frag... which reminds me, do we have a valve?”

Stupid tank, Blast Off thought.

“Brawl, you can talk about interfacing later.” Onslaught warned him, his tone dangerously low.

Brawl whined. “I’m just curious…”

“We can talk later.” Vortex assured him. “Let’s just sleep.”

“Awww…” the former tank laid on his back. “Can I hug you?”

Vortex giggled and hugged him. “Lemme hug you!”

On the other bed, Onslaught watched them, and realised that Blast Off was right.

-

Onslaught woke up smelling something good.

He opened his eyes and looked around. They forgot to turn off the lamps last night, yet it hadn’t turned off yet. Blast Off was still beside him, snoring softly. Swindle and Brawl were also on the other bed… no, Swindle was on the floor and Brawl nearly fell from the bed.

What was it that he smelt? It smelt like… jam? Chocolate? Strawberry? He didn’t quite remember; he ate too much… uh, bread (was it?) last night. The jam was too variative, and their smell was too distinctive for him to remember in only one night.

He got off the bed and walked to the kitchen area where the smell originated. Someone was there, standing and making something with the food.

Vortex?

He walked closer and saw the former helicopter doing something with some bread. What was he doing? How did he know what to do?

“Oh, Onslaught.” Vortex said cheerfully, looking at him. “I’m preparing some toasted bread. I’m nearly finished.”

Onslaught just stared at him.

“Oh, anyway which crème do you want? Chocolate, strawberry, or pineapple?”

“Whatever you think best.” He replied flatly. “I thought it was a jam, not a crème.”

“Dunno.” He took a jar and examined it. “It says crème. What’s a jam?”

“It’s the topping of bread.”

Vortex flipped the breads on the frying pan, then poured some crème on it. “Whatever. Same to me.”

Onslaught didn’t say anything.

“You better wash your face; it’s what humans do when they wake up.”

“How do you know what to do?”

“I watched some human TV, remember?” Vortex took two plates and put two crèmed breads on them. “Here you go. I put chocolate on it.”

Onslaught nodded and went to the washrack. When he returned, he saw Vortex was eating bread and watching the TV in the bed area, watching some TV programme. He went to the kitchen and picked his plate, cringing, then returned to the bed.

He raised his ridge when he saw what Vortex was watching. It was unusual.

“Come sit.” The former copter said. “It’s just a sitcom. Too early for any more important programmes.”

“What time is it?”

Vortex looked to the clock. “04:25 I think. I’m not good at reading clock.”

Onslaught sighed and began eating. Hmm, he thought, Vortex made quite good toasted bread.

“How does it taste?” the former copter asked him.

“It tastes good.” He replied flatly. This was wrong. Everything about this Vortex was wrong. He wasn’t used to Vortex being like this and be nice to anyone. He wasn’t used to Vortex not giving a maniacal, slag-eating, annoying grin to everyone he met. That machine had to have done something to his interrogator!

He’d make the Autobots pay if they couldn’t bring his interrogator back!

“Uh, commander?” Vortex spoke softly. “I-I think something’s wrong with me.”

Onslaught cringed, not accustomed to be called commander by Vortex. The former helicopter almost never called him commander, except in mocking tone. “Wrong?”

“Unh, you’re more expressive without masque.”

The former truck didn’t respond.

“Oh, sorry about that. I think something’s wrong with me. My head keeps aching.”

“Your head keeps aching?” Memory loss? But Vortex did remember that he wasn’t a human before. They ignored the TV as they continued their conversation. “Where does your head ache?”

“Over here.” Vortex pointed his forehead. “It aches.”

“Do you remember anything before this?” he replied, finishing his breakfast.

“I do. I do remember everything before this, even when we’re still on Cybertron, before the war.”

No. Not memory loss. He wasn’t an expert in this, Hook should check him. But they didn’t have Hook here. He also didn’t understand the parts of human body. Well, he knew where his hands and feet were, but he didn’t know what for or what was inside a forehead. This could mean a serious issue; they had to go to a medic fast.

“We’ll check your head. For now, we have to wake them and go to a city.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Combaticons have a new house and new names, Onslaught notices something's wrong on his team, and Blast Off's being adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *watches in distance* what's that?

The van they found turned out to be still operable. With some struggle, Onslaught managed to drive the van into a city not so far from their location. Brawl and Vortex kept looking outside the window, while Swindle was on the seat next to him. Blast Off found some books and began to read them in the bed.

When they arrived in the city, the first thing Onslaught thought to do was to look for somewhere they could live temporarily. A van wasn’t suited for long-time living; there was too small space for the five of them. He thought on renting a room in an apartment, but then realising that they had limited amount of money, he supposed that it was better for them to get a small countryside house instead.

The countryside was on the other side of the city. They had to cross the city to get there, and by that, they saw how was the city like. Traffic jams were here and there, occasional parks and recreational areas, some shopping centres, tall business buildings, everything reminded Onslaught of Kaon, so busy and almost never slept.

They could start by thinking that this was just them trying to make a living on a city. A temporary living.

Swindle, not-so-surprisingly, gave him so much information of human living. Onslaught supposed it was because he had many human acquaintances and business partners. He knew from Swindle that living in an apartment was more expensive than getting a house in the countryside. And so he set the course to the countryside.

Onslaught looked behind; Vortex and Brawl were arguing about something, while Blast Off looked at them.

Blast Off was right; Vortex wasn’t Vortex. What happened this morning emphasised it.

He made a mental note to visit a doctor later. _If_ they could afford to visit one.

After a small drive through the last wide road, they arrived at a large field of numerous plants before entering a housing next to the road. Vortex made an impressed sound, and so did Brawl. There were houses, but each one from the other were clearly less close than apartments, they’d have some more privacy. The houses themselves weren’t so big, but big enough for them. Onslaught swept the area for a house that was for sale or for rent, and found one not so far from the entrance. In fact, it was next to a bus stop sign.

The owner (and his wife), fortunately, was currently there so that they didn’t have to make a call, which Onslaught wondered how could they. The house itself wasn’t so bad. From the outside, it lacked fancy decoration, but still liveable, and it looked big enough. It was for rent.

Onslaught parked the van near the house and put a black leather jacket on. “Vortex, Brawl, stay in the van.”

Brawl whined, Vortex just shrugged.

Onslaught came out, walking to the owner, who looked quite content seeing them. However, Swindle stepped in front of him, smirk on his lips. “Leave this to me.”

“ _Hola, mis amigos._ ” The owner said when they approached. He looked quite aged and had a rather big frame with deep-tanned skin, but content nonetheless. “ _¿Esta casa está dando la vista a ustedes?_ How can I help you?”

“ _Nos está dando la vista._ ” Swindle started. “Yeah, well… we need a temporary house to live in while we’re here, and we’re quite interested in this house.”

“Good for you, baby. Name’s Carlos, by the way.” He held a hand out, which Swindle replied by a handshake. “You’re tourists to the States?”

Swindle and Onslaught exchanged look. “No, not exactly. We’re just here for holiday.”

“What makes you think so, sir?” Onslaught added.

“Because, well, no offense, but you two look like Europeans to me.” Carlos shrugged. “ _Y me respondiste en español._ And your dialect. So it kinda makes me think.”

Onslaught raised his ridge, but Swindle just shrugged.

“So, how do you call yourselves?” continued Carlos.

Swindle froze, unsure how to answer that question. He couldn’t just say his name to a human…

“Just say the first thing that crossed your mind.” Onslaught whispered.

“I’m Schmidt.” Swindle responded, unsure. “Schmidt Karparell. And this is Ons, Ons Jean-Jacques François.”

Onslaught’s question of “What?!” was muffled over Carlos’ laugh. Swindle laughed with him, didn’t catch the death glare of Onslaught that spoke ‘you’re not going to survive this day’ to him.

“Oh, man. And here I thought…” Carlos spoke, still chuckling. “Guys, you’re awesome.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Swindle giggled. “Anyway, can we see inside?”

“Of course! Just step inside.”

Inside was clean and tidy, Onslaught thought, and he liked it. There weren’t much fancy things, and things were straightforward. He let Swindle talk to Carlos, knowing that he was better at this. He only asked a few things, like how old this house was, how were the lamps, what was that thing next to the stove, straight and not quite a small talk.

There was two bedrooms, roughly the same size. The house only had one floor, and it was large enough. There was a TV in the living room and kitchen appliances were complete, at least that was Swindle thought. The paint was still fresh and clean. Even they got a large backyard with a swing on a tree.

“So, _monsieur_ , what brings you here to the States?”

Onslaught looked up from the washtable when he realised Carlos was talking to him.

“Holiday. Home is a bit boring.”

“Boring, huh? At least you got a lot of snow every winter.”

Onslaught raised his ridge, whilst Swindle and Carlos laughed again.

“Well, not much of a talker, are you?” Carlos nudged his shoulder, smiling, and continued explaining.

Swindle tapped his shoulder and spoke lowly so that Carlos couldn’t hear them. “It was a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Europe got more snow every year than this area.” Then Swindle followed Carlos to the living room.

Onslaught didn’t follow them, instead checked again the bedrooms. They were quite large, the beds were soft, and they had air conditioners for each. The cupboards were large enough to store some clothes. No cracks and dents in the wall and ceilings. He didn’t know much of human living, but he thought this would do.

After a house, they needed to get a job.

“Onslaught.” Swindle called him from behind. He looked over his shoulder. “I talked about the price. It’s $200 per month. I think it’ll do, at least until we have a job. How do you think?”

Onslaught nodded. “Take the money from Blast Off.”

-

After paying the first rent and settling things from the van, they began to explore the new house. Swindle instantly welcomed the softness of the new berth, while Vortex and Brawl made that delicious bread again for them. They were pretty hungry again, after all. Onslaught at first thought that the bread from morning would fill their tanks for a day, but the sun hadn’t even reached the zenith and their tanks had been empty again.

Onslaught sat in an impromptu wooden dining table in the backyard, wallet in his hands. It was the wallet that Blast Off found in the van. Most of the money had been used as their first rent of the house, so they had to use the rest wisely. Fortunately, he thought, they hadn’t had the need to buy anything at the moment.

He took its contents out and inspected them, raising his ridges. Aside from the money, the contents were of no use to him. What was a Visa? What was that card for? Was the _American Express_ card a ticket to a human transportation? Did humans need a licence to just drive a car?

“I should say that Vortex made a good bread.” Blast Off sat in front of him, putting a plate of bread and four glasses on the table.

Onslaught looked up, alarmed.

“Take some.” Blast Off offered. “It’s chocolate.”

Onslaught took a slice of bread on the plate. “I suppose you know what’s a Visa is?”

Munching the bread, Blast Off took the card from Onslaught’s hand. “It’s a sort of money, I saw on some human TV that Vortex forced me to watch. One uses this as a replacement of money, but still he has to pay.”

“Your point?”

“One pays with this, then the amount he has to pay each month is increasing. Technically, he borrows money from the bank, then each month he has to pay to the bank, exactly the amount he borrowed.”

The former truck nodded, taking the card that Blast Off returned. He took a bite of the bread, and looked to the wallet back. Some photos, more cards, some after-payment papers, some notes…

Opening one of the notes, he raised his ridge.

“What’s that?” asked Brawl, coming from the kitchen with Vortex and more breads.

“The wallet Blast Off found.” Onslaught replied shortly. “I found a note, but it was written in another language.”

“Lemme see.” Vortex took the note from Onslaught, whilst sitting beside him. “Hm, French.”

“What does it say? Is it a secret map?” Brawl said, eating one of the breads.

“No, though I kinda expected it. It says « Que notre amour soit brillant comme une étoile, et éternel comme la Lune. »” Vortex snickered. “Looks like someone was in love.”

Brawl chuckled. “What does it mean?”

“’Let our love be as bright as the stars, and as eternal as the Moon.’” Vortex giggled, then looked to Blast Off. “Can we be like this, Blast Off?”

“No.” was the quick answer.

Onslaught snickered.

“Where did you learn it, anyway?” Brawl asked.

“Personal interest.” Vortex took a bite. “And from sitcoms Blast Off forced me to watch.”

Blast Off growled; Onslaught thought that it was like he was revving his engine. Then he spoke in a dangerously low tone. “Say it again and I’ll make sure you won’t see tomorrow’s sun.”

“Yeah, you’re just going to make me use a visor for the whole day.” Vortex replied, not at all appeared afraid. “I used to use it all the time.”

Onslaught chuckled. Brawl laughed.

“We need a human name.” the former truck spoke, changing the topic. The last thing he wanted was a fuming Blast Off around the house. “Each of us is going to need one. Swindle already has his own., and he also gave one to me.”

“What?! I like my name!”

“Cool.”

Brawl took a sip from his glass. “What’s Swindle’s name?”

“Schmidt Karparell. I don’t know why he picked it.”

“Sounds good to me.” Swindle appeared from inside the house and sat next to Brawl, taking a bread. “No one’s telling me we’re having an outside dinner?”

“It’s not night yet.”

“So, Onslaught, what’s your human name?” Vortex nudged him.

The former truck took a sip from his drink, hiding his embarrassment. “Ask Swindle.”

“You wanna hear it?” Swindle gleamed. “It’s awesome!”

Onslaught looked away.

“Tell us!”

“Okay.” The former jeep swallowed his bite and cleared his throat. “Ons Jean-Jacques François.”

Brawl and Vortex went awed.

“Cool.”

“I hate it.”

“I thought ‘Ons’ should be pronounced with a nasal vowel?”

“Bizarre.”

“One thing.” Vortex laid on the chair. “Why is it so French?”

“It sounds good to me, from one of my business partners.”

“The Ons part?”

“Of course the other part! Ons is essentially his thing.”

Onslaught growled, looking to Swindle, Brawl, and Vortex.

“’Kay, boss.” Brawl held up his hands, smiling apologetically. “Not wanna see you in trouble.”

“The trouble will be yours if you don’t think about your human name.”

Vortex slumped in his chair, taking another bread. “Can I not change my name? I-I think it’ll blend just fine with humans.”

“Yeah. He’ll just need a last name.” Swindle backed him up.

Onslaught looked to Blast Off; the former shuttle just shrugged.

“Brent Jones for Blast Off.” Swindle spoke again, then shrugged when Blast Off looked at him. “Dunno, it just kinda popped in.”

Blast Off nodded. “As long as it’s useable and doesn’t sound degrading.”

“Bradley Johnson for me?” Brawl spoke. “I really like that racer I watch in spare time.”

Swindle replied. “Tell me that’s not his name.”

“Of course not. People will confuse me if I use it. It’s just his last name.”

“Where did you get ‘Bradley’?” Vortex asked, sipping his drink.

“It sounds like Brawl. I like it.”

Swindle sipped Brawl’s drink and took another bread. “Dunno where did you get it, but it just fits.”

“Don’t you teach me how to name myself!”

“What? Who are you referring to?”

“You, of course!”

“Hey, I didn’t teach you! Vortex, did I teach him?”

“No. Not exactly.”

Blast Off sighed. Stupid tank, he thought.

“See? Vortex’s not telling you that I taught you!”

“He said ‘not exactly’ after!”

Onslaught facepalmed.

“Guys, guys, okay. No one taught anyone.” Vortex cut them in. “Anyway, my last name’s Jones too.”

Blast Off looked up. “What?”

“C’mon… it’s just a last name?”

“No.” Blast Off finished his drink. “People will confuse us.”

“People use nicknames to call one another.”

“And what is your nickname?”

“Tex.” Vortex said simply. “Everyone knows it. Even you call me that.”

“Same last names are okay; people will just think that Vortex is your brother or something like a relation.” Swindle explained.

“I _do_ know about last names.” Blast Off looked away. “I just don’t see that it’s fitting to have him use it.”

“Fitting?” Onslaught asked.

“C’mon, we’re having a relation, right, Blast Off?” Vortex pleaded.

“No.”

Brawl giggled.

“Just a last name?”

“Use Onslaught’s instead if you want a same last name. Or why don’t you even look up by yourself?”

“I don’t think that ‘François’ follows ‘Vortex’.” Onslaught raised his ridges.

Blast Off stared at Onslaught.

“It is.” Swindle added. “It’s just kinda weird. ‘Vortex’ follows ‘Jones’ better.”

“Why are you even…” Blast Off sighed, facepalmed. “We don’t even know about human names! How can you get a sense of what follows what?”

“Dunno. It just does.” Swindle shrugged.

Onslaught smirked, but then the smirk faded off when he realised by what were people going to call him. They would call him by his nickname or his first name. And it was Ons.

Changing his name was too late; the owner of this house already knew him by that name.

Frag it.

“I’ll frag you until you can’t walk.” Blast Off spoke in a low tone, looking away.

Swindle and Brawl laughed. Onslaught smirked again. Vortex giggled.

-

Onslaught was about to sleep when Blast Off fell face down on the bed of his and Blast Off’s room. There were two bedrooms on their new house, each with equal size. He decided that Vortex, Swindle, and Brawl would be in one room, and Blast Off and he would be in another one. That was better than to listen to Brawl’s talking whilst he was asleep.

On the bed, Onslaught shifted to make room.

“Busy day, I take it?”

“More than busy.” The former shuttle replied, muffled by the bed. “We’ve become _fragging_ humans. And I don’t know what should we do. I’m not sure that Megatron would help us in any way.”

Onslaught chuckled.

Blast Off looked up to glare at him. “Why the frag aren’t you concerned?”

“I _am_ concerned. I just remembered Hook told me not to take things too seriously. Besides, I have a plan.”

Oh, right. Onslaught always had a plan. He’d always lead them out of trouble.

Onslaught continued. “I am also stressed out about this. It’s fortunate that Vortex, Swindle, and Brawl are capable of not being too uptight stressed.”

“Hmpf.” Blast Off buried his head. “The frag they are.”

Pulling Blast Off beside him, Onslaught smiled. “Come on, just rest for today. Tomorrow we have to look for a job. Each of us.”

The former shuttle mumbled something unintelligible.

“Done with fragging Vortex?” the other asked, teasing him.

“I _wasn’t_ fragging anyone. Not that we can frag anyone.” He rolled to lay on his back and whined. “I can’t even feel comfortable lying on my front.”

Onslaught laughed softly.

“So what’s that plan of yours?”

Onslaught mused. “Tomorrow, we have to get a job. Get one as fast as you can. Then we’ll collect the money to get ourselves a computer to try to contact Megatron.”

“After that?”

“We’ll do whatever the reply would be.”

The other replied, looking away. “I don’t like it.”

Onslaught kept quiet, silently telling the former truck to continue.

“I don’t like it when Megatron is our only hope.”

The former truck didn’t respond.

Then he turned the lamps off. “Let’s just sleep.”

Blast Off was about to ask again when Onslaught continued.

“Nor do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at names XD also I think I did too far with 'em about fluffiness lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vortex still has to learn. Onslaught and the others look for a job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys it took so long .-.

Vortex woke up feeling like last night was his best recharge ever.

He groaned and rolled to his side. This morning was a good one, his frame felt like fresh new as he didn't hear any cracks and pops and something went dislocated. He watched the clean white ceiling of his room, thinking what was he going to do today. Maybe a lil bit of flying and a spar with Brawl; he hoped that Megatron wouldn't be giving them any new mission.

He sighed and draped a servo over his face.

Wait, why was his servo like those the fleshies had?

Suddenly he felt an intense headache. He gripped the front of his head, rolling to his side until he met a back of another human. After the pain faded, he let loose of his grip, and his memory came back to him.

Oh yeah, they had turned into humans.

He sat up on the side of the bed and looked around. There were a cupboard, a small table, and a window in the room. This was the house they had rent for them.

He sighed, missing how his rotors would tingle whenever he woke up. He would flick them, and if Brawl slept in his quarter, he would groan and tell him to stop, or if he was already awake, he'd laugh and try to catch one of them.

Okay, Vortex, think positive. At least they were still together.

But, he wasn't used to be the one who thought positively.

Vortex knew that before this whole human thing happened, he was a sadist. A psychopath, would the human say. But now, he felt like he was about to throw up when he thought about what he was doing for his life. To play his hands in the enemy's inside… ugh. He felt so wrong. But he wondered, did the others know? Did they notice the sudden change in his personality?

He didn't know he should be like his old self or not.

Okay, enough brooding. He better went to the toilet and did that thing the humans did after they woke up. His midsection felt weird, like something was going to pop out.

-

No one was awake when he walked to the main room. He flicked the lamp on and walked to the kitchen, noticing the sun hadn't even rose from the horizon. He opened the fridge, remembering that it was where most of their supplies were. Oh, they ran out of breads.

He picked a weird-looking flesh meat and inspected it. It was cow meat.

Nah, it was too complicated to cook it. He put it back and looked for something else.

Oh, eggs.

Oh yeah, he remembered something.

He picked the meat and eggs. The others would wake up soon, so he thought that it would be better if he cooked their breakfast too.

Suddenly, he felt like this was a usual thing he did.

Clearing his mind from the thought, he sliced four slices from the meat, and turned on the stove. But it stuck.

Huh? Wasn’t he supposed just to twist it?

He tried to press it before twisting it, and it worked. He grinned triumphantly, adjusting the fire.

It wasn’t long before he had five plates of eggs and meat. Once done, he put the remaining meat back to the fridge and took one plate with him to the main room.

Eating his breakfast, he watched the TV. Like yesterday, it was mostly boring programmes. News, cartoons (too childish for his taste), or even a programme that was just… showing a bunch of nonsense. He cycled through the channel, until he found his usual channel, and it was airing a sitcom.

Munching his breakfast, he nearly missed the door bell ringing.

The sun was still low on the horizon, but someone was coming into their shared house. Vortex stood up from the sofa, putting his plate down and walked to the door.

Huh? No one was there. He looked to the sides of the house and found no one. Maybe he misheard?

But still, it was a nice sight. He didn’t remember seeing the sun this low in the horizon. He sighed, basking at its warmth. The sunrays were coming right towards the door of their house, and Vortex liked the warmness.

Suddenly, someone was pressed against Vortex’s back. He tensed; were he in his old frame, his rotors would become still. He could feel the other’s vent on his audio, down to his shoulder.

“What is it?” Blast Off’s booming voice sent shivers to his smaller frame, but it made him relax. It was just Blast Off.

“Nothing.” He replied, leaning into the other. “Just enjoying the sun.”

Blast Off raised his ridge. “Enjoying?”

“I think.” He sighed, nearly in disappointment when Blast Off pulled away. “I made some breakfast. Eggs and meat. They’re in the kitchen.”

Vortex sat back on the couch, watching TV. Blast Off returned just a moment later with the breakfast Vortex made. Watching the TV quietly, Blast Off ate the food. For once, Vortex didn’t feel like staring at him.

Once Blast Off was done with his food, Vortex asked him. “Blast Off…?”

“Yes?”

Vortex looked away. “Do you think I’ve changed?”

The other’s reaction would be priceless if Vortex was his previous self. Blast Off looked at him, concerned. Vortex still didn’t look to him; judging by Blast Off’s reaction, the answer wouldn’t be good.

“Yes.” The former shuttle replied, finally. “You have changed.”

“Is it a good change?”

“No. Not exactly.” Blast Off drank his water. “I can’t exactly tell whether it’s a good thing or not.”

Vortex sighed, looking at him.

“Earlier in the doorframe,” Blast Off pointed to the doorframe. “was a test. You usually whine or protest when I pulled away like that. And you didn’t.”

Onslaught suddenly opened the door to his room, making Blast Off and Vortex look at him. Vortex gulped; even in human form, his commander still looked huge and commanding, and a bit scary. He didn’t say anything, just nodded to them and went straight to the washrack.

Vortex leant on the sofa. “Is it about my… personality?”

“Quite.” The other could sense the former shuttle chose his words carefully, as if he was against the idea of making Vortex upset. “I didn’t exactly know about humans, maybe it was just one of mood swings.”

“Is ‘sudden personality change’ a human sickness or disease?”

Blast Off looked at his optiques. “Hardly.”

“Well, it’s still nice not to see you change anyway.” Vortex smiled, not in that usual style of his.

“Excuse me?”

“Ons still snuggles with you, and you like it.”

Blast Off was about to made a snappy remark when their commander’s voice boomed in the living room, telling Blast Off to come. And was that something about digestion?

The former shuttle sighed, then stood up, leaving Vortex grinning nearly in his usual slag-eating grin.

-

After the others left, Vortex remained behind in the house, mostly because Blast Off didn’t approve him leaving the house. And that fragger added that with Vortex’s knowledge of humans (which Vortex denied that he was the only one knew), he’d be better stay in the house for the time being. He didn’t like it. Blast Off did care for him, but he wanted to go out and seek a job.

He wanted to help the team.

Sighing, he watched the bus leave from a bus stop near the house. The others left a few hours ago. Onslaught had divided the rest of the money left for all five of them, it would run out if they didn’t find a job fast. Noting that they still had some supplies for the next month (or at least, Vortex think), if they took so long to find a job, at least they didn’t have to spend their money to buy supplies.

He closed the door, and went for his bedroom.

-

It was half past six when the Onslaught returned. Vortex was watching the TV, munching some snack he found in the refrigerator. He looked up at the tanned muscular man entering the house, bringing with him some newspapers, a pack of bread, and a shopping bag. Onslaught nodded at the sight of Vortex smiling, then put the newspaper and the bread on the table.

“Did you get it?” Vortex asked.

“I did.” Onslaught went back to his room, then returned a few minutes later with different clothing. He then sat down beside Vortex.

“Wow, that was fast. What kind of job did you get?”

Onslaught took some of the snack from the table. “Cargo delivery.”

“Cargo delivery...? No wonder you get it so fast.” Vortex took the snack. “Where are the others?”

“We separated. With that we could cover more area of the city and get job faster. The next bus will arrive in 10 minutes.”

“So, you went to the supermarket?”

Onslaught raised his ridge.

“...you brought a shopping bag back there.”

Following Vortex’s finger, he knew what the other was referring to. “It’s my new uniform.”

“You got a uniform? Cool.”                                                                     

Onslaught smirked, then he stood up. “Vortex, backyard. Help me tuning the lamp.”

Turning off the TV, Vortex stood up and followed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Onslaught watched the buildings changed as the bus went. It was just a job; it was nothing really hard. Yes, it was easy. But what would they do if they already had a job? What would they do if they had the money they needed? What would they do if Megatron didn’t want to help them?

Frag, this was taking a toll in his priority list.

Onslaught sighed, trying not to complicate things further. He didn’t want to let this team fail just because he run out of plan. Now, just look for somewhere he could work.

The bus stopped to let more people in. He ignored someone sitting beside him, it didn’t matter.

Then he saw it, a ‘help wanted fast!’ sign on a window of a building. And some details under it.

Not thinking twice, Onslaught got off the bus and walked to see the sign closer.

Well, it was a cargo delivery job. And it was wanted fast. Maybe he could do this one. It was just like his old job in Kaon.

There weren’t much people in the building when he entered; maybe they were elsewhere. The building itself wasn’t so large. Onslaught suspected that this was only an office of some sort. He walked straight to the receptionist who seemed so busy.

“Excuse me,” he politely greeted her.

She surprised, and turned towards him with a forced smile. Blast Off often made lots of those. “Oh, I’m sorry. Good morning too. How may I help you?”

“Yes, I noticed a ‘help wanted’ sign on the windows, and I’m interested in applying for a job.”

She nodded, then surged forward excitedly. Onslaught raised his eyebrows at that. “You’re applying for the job?!”

Onslaught nodded, “I am.”

“Oh good. May I have your name, please?” she squeaked. “I’ll call the manager over.”

“Ons Jean-Jacques François.”

“Thank you. Please sit over there.” She gestured towards the chair in the other side of the room.

Onslaught turned to sit on the nearest chair, a bit confused from her expression. Maybe this company was in a dire need for an employee? Likely, he thought. He looked his surroundings. There were some pictures on the wall, some… certificates? And was that a coffee maker in the corner?

He didn’t have to wait for long. The manager approached him and greeted him brightly, sitting on a chair in front of him.

“Good morning, Mr. Francis.”

“François.”

“Oh, yes. I am sorry.” She smiled apologetically, and despite that, she looked very happy. “My name is Margaret Spencer, and I’m very glad that you’re applying for the job, Mr. François.”

“Likewise.” He responded. “So, what is the detail of the job?”

“Well, we are looking for a driver for cargo delivery.” She answered. “You see, our previous driver has quitted yesterday, and we have deliveries to make. Our other drivers aren’t available because they have another cargo.”

Onslaught nodded. Cargo delivery wouldn’t be that hard.

“Can you drive a heavy-model vehicle, Mr. François?”

 _I used to be one_ , Onslaught thought. _Of course I know how to operate one_. “I can. Trucks, pickups, even tanks.”

Margaret laughed a bit.

“So, for a test, you need to deliver a cargo to our other office in this address.”

Nodding again, Onslaught asked. “No interview as such?”

“Well, we really need someone to fill the position. If you deliver the cargo before 12 this noon, you’ll get the job. If you don’t, you’ll still get paid for one-time delivery.”

“Can I have a map, please? I’m kind of new to this city.”

“Oh, please wait.” Margaret got up and looked for something in the receptionist table, then returned back with a map. “Here. You are here now in the main office.” She pointed to the map. “And you have to deliver the cargo to here.”

Onslaught pondered a bit. It wasn’t that far, considering the location of his current house which was also visible on the map. Maybe he could avoid some traffic jams he had seen on his way here. Apparently humans loved traffic jams so much their city was practically full of them.

“Well?” Margaret asked.

“If I may ask, what kind of thing do I have to deliver? So I can drive better.”

“A few ornaments, not fragile ones, a table, and a monitor. All in packages. If you get the jobs, you’ll deliver refrigerators and electrical devices to customers. Maybe in longer distances.”

“I will do it.” Onslaught responded. “Looking at the clock, I’m sure I can do it before 12.”

She nodded, satisfied. “Then we have a deal.”

-

It wasn’t that hard, really. There were some traffic jams on the way there, but with the help from the map, he could find other roads to avoid them. And the truck was nearly like his old form, which brought some bad memories to him. He missed being able to drive in his own again.

But, on the bright side, he was familiar with the truck, so he hadn’t had much problem. He had to do this in order to get his old frame back, he kept reminding himself. This is mandatory.

Apparently, he enjoyed driving again, until he didn’t realise he had arrived, even before 11:30. He grinned in satisfaction when he handed the reports over to the recipient, who seemed a little bit faint when he saw him, but thanked him nonetheless.

He drove back to the office. Margaret was already waiting there when he docked the truck back.

“I’m surprised you even managed to arrive at 11:23, Mr. François.”

Smiling to her, Onslaught gave back the report. “It’s still before 12, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. You got the job.” She held out her hand. “Congratulations.”

Onslaught returned the gesture, “Thank you.”

Onslaught had to deliver two more deliveries before he could go home. After giving the uniform and the first payment for the first delivery, Margaret saluted him good bye. The sun was still up, perhaps he could take a look at the city before he went home.


End file.
